


Growing Up Just A Little Different

by HK44



Category: Original Work
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Male Character, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2264997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HK44/pseuds/HK44
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rosie was five, he didn’t really like Barbie dolls or dresses. He’d rather spend all his time playing in the mud or tackling the boys on the playground. He felt proud when he managed to wrestle a seven year old down to the ground without any outside help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Up Just A Little Different

********

**Five**

****

    When Rosie was five, he didn’t really like barbie dolls or dresses. He’d rather spend all his time playing in the mud or tackling the boys on the playground. He felt proud when he managed to wrestle a seven year old down to the ground without any outside help.

****

\--

****

    “God, Rosie!” his mother shrieked as his father dumped him inside, still chuckling to himself. “What happened to her, Albert?”

    “She was on the swings when this big seven year old menace came along and tried to pull her off,” her father chortled. “She kicked him and beat him up in the mud.”

    His mother gave a disdainful look to the man she married before checking her child over for any injuries. Rosie let himself be bathed, washing grime and dirt off of his body. His mother scrubbed hard behind his ear. The water and soap bubbles started to turn a murky brown.

    “You’re like a boy sometimes, sweetheart,” his mother commented absentmindedly.

    Rosie gleamed at the compliment and never felt more pleased.

 

 

 

 

 

**Ten**

****

    They started coming in when he was ten. He tried everything from too small sports bras to placing towers of heavy books on his chest when everyone was fast asleep. Nothing worked. He never felt more devastated. Things got worse as the year progressed.

****

\--

****

    “Alright, honey, what colour do you want?” his mother asked, stooping over as she investigated bra prices.

    Rosie crossed his arms and looked away. “I don’t want any, Mom. Why can’t I just keep the sports bras?”

    Pressing a rather flashy pink bra to Rosie’s chest, his mother simply replied, “Oh, sweetheart. We can’t have everyone thinking you’re a boy now, can we? Sports bras give absolutely no umph.”

    “I don’t want any umph,” Rosie protested, pushing the bra away. “I just want the sports bras.”

    “But they keep you so flat, darling.” His mother held another bra up to Rosie’s chest. This one was yellow with bows. “Besides, you’re going to get bigger, you know. Not going to be an A cup forever.”

    “Mom!” Rosie glanced around, blush creeping up to the tips of his ears. “Stop!”

    “Why? It’s just us girls.” His mother waved to group of mothers and daughters who waved back.

    “I’m not-” Rosie cut himself off before he could say anything else.

    “Not what, dear?” His mother put the yellow bra back and frowned. “We need a nice beige, something to blend in. These colours are doing nothing for your complexion.” She walked off in search of a beige bra.

    Rosie gripped his arm tightly, feeling overwhelmed by all the feminineness around him. “I’m not a girl,” he whispered.

 

 

  

 ****  
**** **Twelve**

****

    Turning twelve was like being sentenced to an eternity of Hell. Things happened. His body changed even more. He didn’t like the changes and he certainly disliked the way people started acting around him, as though he was fragile butterfly. Everything was weird and awkward. Puberty sucked.

****

\---

****

    “So! Periods are nothing to worry about, hun,” his mother chirped, gathering the bloodstained sheets into her arms. “Normal part of a female life!”

    Rosie coughed as he pulled off his clothes. “Boys don’t get them?”

    “Nope! They get different things but nothing you need to worry about, Rosalynn.” His mother took the bloody pajama pants and underwear. “Head off to the bathroom dear and take a nice hot shower, m’kay?”

    Rosie turned on the shower and put in on the hottest setting it could go. The water burned. He yanked the curtains back, feeling humiliated as the water turned red around his feet. This was by far the worse experience he’d had in his life so far.

    Then his mother came in while he was drying off and it got worse. Sitting on the toilet, he listened as his mother discussed periods with him.

    “Now, sometimes cramps don’t hurt as much. My sister never got painful cramps and my mother never did. But my best friend and I always did so we took and still take painkillers. One pill every four hours.” She pressed a box into his palm. “There are different ways to stop from bleeding on your clothes. One common and popular way is by using a pad. Pads are good but you can’t wear them in water or they’ll get soaked and they’ll feel strange when you’re doing sports. Tampons are the ones that are good for sports.”

    He endured an hour long lesson on how to wear pads and how to insert a tampon before being sent back to his bedroom with the promise of ice cream later and wearing a pad that felt more like a diaper than an ingenious method of not soaking your clothes with blood from… that place.

He fell into his bed and cried until there were no tears left, cursing every god and deity that could possibly exist. He wasn’t a girl. He didn’t need this stuff. So why did he keep getting them?

    Puberty sucked and the worse part was it was just getting started. Rosie quickly realized that puberty was going to be the worst time of his life.

    Joy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Fifteen**

****

    At fifteen he started calling himself Logan and introduced himself to people online as such. He cut off all his hair and talked his father into getting him a debit card. After signing up for Paypal, he bought a few binders. It was great for the most part. His parents either didn’t notice anything or pretended not to and he had made a lot of friends online who helped him figure himself out.

    Then new stuff happened and life went back to being shit.

****

\--

****

    “So, your father and I think that it’s time that we talk about sex.”

    Logan paused in the middle of his elaborate sketch of a warrior princess that someone was paying him to draw. His voice cracked as he asked, “What?”

    His mother dropped in front of him. “Sex, honey.”

    “Why? School has taught me enough.” His voice grew more and more higher pitched as the panic swelled in his chest. “I know where everything goes and how it all works and condoms and stuff, Mom. You don’t need to do this.”

    “No, I do.” She sat next to him. “My mother never talked to me about sex and the first few times I just laid there and it was painful. So, yes, I think we should discuss sex and how it will affect your life.”

    “Mom, I really don’t want-”

    His mother silenced him with a well placed hand on his knee. “Honey. This is important. Just hear me out then you can go gossip to your friends about how awkward and weird your parents are, okay?”

    He inhaled. “Fine.”

    “Good. Now,” his mother began as she opened up her laptop, revealing pictures that were definitely not safe for work, “do you know what the clitoris is?”

    This conversation took two hours and was definitely more embarrassing than the period talk, especially since his father walked in during the talk about boys and what they’re going to want, to give firsthand experience on his sexual encounters with females.

    He ended up finding himself alone in his house, stuck in his bedroom, holding a vibrator gingerly with one hand and a bottle of lube in the other hand, briefly wondering what his parents expected him to do with either of them. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what to do. He’d tried masturbation before and that felt nice and okay but it was weird touching an area that he didn’t think should’ve been there.

    As he ran through the conversation one more time in his head, his mind kept circling one particular part.

    “You might have started to notice boys in a different way,” his mother had said.

    Logan replaced ‘boys’ with ‘girls’ then frowned. Girls were pretty, yeah, but they’d always been pretty and cute. Where was the different? It was then Logan realized that maybe there was something else wrong with him besides being stuck in the wrong body.

    He really wished there wasn’t anything else. He wasn’t sure he could handle it.

    He hid the lube and vibrator in the back of his dresser and pretended like they weren’t there. ****  
****

 

 

 

 

**Seventeen**

****

    At seventeen, Logan got asked out to the prom by a senior whose mother was a friend of his mother. Logan, having decided that, yes, he was straight but not into boys because he was a he and straight males liked girls, didn’t really feel inclined to go until his mother said that it would be nice to. It wasn’t like he was going to have to kiss the guy or anything, right? It would just be as friends.

    Yeah, right.

****

\--

   

“This is nice,” Logan commented as the night began to come to a quiet end.

    And it was true. As far as dances went, this wasn’t the worst. The worst was probably his middle school dance where all the guy shuffled it out on one side of the room and the girls shuffled on the other and he had no idea where to go because he was a boy but looked like a girl and that tended to complicate things.

    “Yes. It is nice,” Noah replied, smiling a little wobbly. “But it’s, uh, getting a bit hot. You wanna go take a breather outside?”

    “Sure,” Logan chirped, following Noah outside.

His dress, some pink monstrosity that made him feel really gross, swayed in the breeze. Noah was leaning on his arm but Logan didn’t mind. The contact felt nice. Logan fiddled with his sleeve as it kept slipping down his arm.

Suddenly Noah cleared his throat. “Do you wanna go, Rose?”

“If you want to go, then sure.” Logan smiled. As nice as the dance was, it was getting kind of late and people kept staring at him. Well, staring at his chest really but he had no idea why. There was nothing to look at.

Noah was polite on the car ride, insisting that Logan rest a bit. Logan thanked him and closed his eyes, drifting into a half-sleep state in the backseat. When he woke up, they were outside a hotel. Everything turned to fuzz in his mind because he felt like he should know what was happening but he didn’t.

“Noah?” he said but his voice must’ve been too quiet because Noah ignored him and walked over to a concierge.

After a few minutes, Noah came back and guided Logan over to the elevator. He was shaking a little, obviously nervous.

    “Noah?”

    “Don’t worry, Rose” Noah said, pulling him out of the elevator and over to a door. “I have condoms.”

    At that moment everything clicked together but before he could say anything, Noah had him pressed against the door, trapped with nowhere else to go, mouth greedily pushing up against Logan’s. There was an extra tongue where there shouldn’t be and hands pressing down on an area where nothing but cloth should be. The door clicked open and Logan found himself stumbling backwards, only to be caught by Noah’s arm and pulled over to the bed.

“Wha- NOAH!” He shoved Noah off and pulled his legs into his chest, feeling overly violated and disgusted. “What the hell, man?”

Noah pushed off of the floor. “What are you talking about? I asked if you wanted to go.”

“I thought you meant you were going to take me home!”

“Then why didn’t you say anything when we got  here?”

“I was confused!” Then something slid over his mind. “Wait a minute. Did you seriously make a reservation becAUSE YOU THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO HAVE SEX?”

“Everyone has sex on prom night!”

“I LIKE GIRLS!”

They screamed the sentences at the same time, gasping afterwards.

“Then why did you accept to go with me?” Noah asked, falling back against the wall, crossing his arms, a dark flush over his face.

“‘Cause I thought we were going as friends.” He added as an afterthought, “And my mom kind of made me.”

“Huh.” Noah laughed a little. “My mom made me ask you out. I wasn’t even going to go.”

    “What?”

    “My mom told me to ask you to go with me. At first I thought it was because she thought I was embarrassed to go alone to prom but I guess it was just a conspiracy.”

“Then why did you try to-” Logan waved his hands around. “-to do stuff?”

“My mom told me that you wanted to,” Noah mumbled, rubbing his arm, embarrassed. “She said your mom told her that you had a crush on me and were, uh, drawing me in certain.. ways. She said a girl wouldn’t say yes to a prom date if she didn’t want to have sex because everyone has sex on prom night. She was the one who made the reservation here.”

Confused and feeling overwhelmed, Logan accidentally blurted out, “I’m a boy.” It was the first time Logan had ever said it outloud to another person before and it felt way better than he thought it would.

“Serious?” Noah sounded perplexed.

Logan tried to retract, tried to pull the words back, so he stuttered out, “Well, not biologically, I mean, I am, but I-”

“Transman. Got it.” Noah grinned. “So you’re straight then?”

    And this feeling of calm settled over Logan. “Yeah.”

    “What’s your name? Do you have one?”

    “Yeah, it’s, um, it’s Logan.”

    Noah’s smile got bigger. “Logan. The Wolverine.” There was a teasing tone to his voice and Logan tried to remember a time where he felt this at peace.

    Sometime while Logan was taking a shower, Noah had bought some clothes from 24/7 outlet store nearby. The clothes were baggy and dark and Logan loved them. Laying back with Noah and watching Sharknado, he realized that he just killed Noah’s night of sexual pleasure.

    “Uh, sorry about the, uh, liking girls thing, man. I didn’t realize-”

    “It’s fine,” Noah assured. “I didn’t want to have sex anyway. Asexual, the whole nine yards.”

    “What?”

    “Asexual, as in lacking any sexual attraction to anyone.” Noticing Logan’s lost look, he explained, “Okay. Well, girls are still cute and pretty and I can appreciate their appearance but I don’t want to have sex with them. If I had a choice between a year supply of cake and a year supply of hot, willing, horny women, I’d probably pick the cake and not feel any different about it.”

Logan frowned. “But you were going to have sex with me.”

“I’m not opposed to having sex to bring pleasure to my partner and I do mastubate occasionally and I’ve had sex so I know sex feels good. I just don’t want to do it. “ Noah pushed himself up and leaned back against the headboard. “I assumed it’s what you wanted so I was going to do it to please you. Not necessarily because I desire it in anyway kind of way. Why I rushed things. I just wanted it over with.”

“Oh.”

Things went silent as they watched the characters throw bombs into the tornados.

“I’d want pie,” Logan noted.

“Pie’s for losers,” Noah grunted. “Cake all the way.”

It was honestly the best night of Logan’s life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Nineteen**

****

    Apparently bodies are allowed to change even when puberty’s gone and passed you over and at the ripe age of nineteen, Logan figures this out. With Noah and his newfound legality, he decided that, yes, a full transition to being male would be nice because binders flatten but not permanently and his voice is still high pitched and gross and he dislikes having lesbians giving him a second look because he’s a he and straight so, yeah, testosterone sounds really good.

    Noah rolls his eyes and thumps Logan on the head when he announces this discovery.

****

\---

****

    “I don’t like needles though.”

    Noah rolled his eyes. “Then ask if you can take pills instead.”

    Logan jerked up and paced around the room. “But from what I’ve read shots are more effective than pills.”

    “Then take the shots,” Noah said, flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine. “You think my legs will ever look this good?” He showed Logan a picture of Sebastian Stan posing in coffee shop.

“Um, no. Never. Sebastian’s got thighs that no one else is ever going to have,” Logan commented. He bent over and rubbed his knees. “Noah, I’m having a dilemma and you’re asking pointless questions that are making me question my sexuality.”

Noah snorts. “Sebastian’s been making me question my sexuality ever since Hot Tub Time Machine.”

“I thought you were straight?” Logan stretched and bounced on the heels of his feet nervously.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate how fucking hot his ass is in these jeans.” Noah whistled as he flipped the page. “I’d tap that.”

“You’re a disgrace to asexuals everywhere.” There was a teasing tone in Logan’s voice and Noah just grinned.

“Damn straight.” Noah cleared his throat and closed the magazine. “But back to your dilemma. If needles freak you out so much, just go for the pills. It’ll give you the same effect.”

Logan groaned. “But they’re not as effective and I want to be a guy now,” he whined.

“Hey. Idiot. You are a guy now,” Noah snapped. “Just ‘cause you don’t look like one doesn’t mean you aren’t. You are what you are. What? You think every effeminate guy out there that talks with a nasally voice and loves fashion trends is gay?”

Logan flushed and looked in the opposite direction.

“REALLY?” Noah didn’t bother hiding the disapproval in his voice. “You are such a disappointment. Why am I even your friend?”

“Well, they are, aren’t they?”

Murderous intentions arose in Noah’s eyes and Logan flinched. “No, they’re not, you moron.”

“Logan Robinson?” the secretary called out. She smiled and took the two of them over to the doctor’s room.

“Look,” Noah said, “if you really want the shots, I’ll give you the injections until you can do them yourself. Alright?”

Logan nodded. “Alright. Thanks, man.”

Noah bumped their elbows together and grinned. “No problem.”

The needles didn’t hurt as much as he built it up in his head and there was a quickened flutter of excitement as he took the testosterone back to his and Noah’s dorm.

Maybe a second dose of puberty was what he needed.

 

 

 

 

 ****  
**** **Twenty-one**

****

    Twenty-one was a good time. Logan noted that maybe it worked because twenty-one backwards was twelve and vice versa and being twelve sucked. But yeah, twenty-one was a good time, a good year and Logan couldn’t remember a time where he felt more at ease besides that one night with Noah.

    His twenty-first birthday was what started the awesome year so it stands that he remembers that moment better than anything else.

****

\--

****

    “I’m asexual,” he confessed to his more than a little naked girlfriend. “And trans.”

    Jane, his girlfriend of seven months, four days, two hours and three minutes, his girlfriend who was currently laid out in what Logan was sure was a provocative manner on his bed, raised her eyes. “Oh.”

    “Is that a condescending ‘oh’, a confused ‘oh’ or a I’m-okay with-that ‘oh’?” he asked nervously, gripping on to his sleeves.

    “The last one. Pass me my shirt.” Logan passed her her green shirt that was neatly folded on his desk. She started pulling it on. “God, I’m embarrassed now. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

    He flushed. “Nerves.”

    She bumped his elbow with hers and pulled him down into the bed. “Seven months and the reason you wouldn’t tell me was because you were too nervous to? Idiot. I wouldn’t have cared.”

    “I just-”

    She kissed him full on the lips and smirked. “It’s fine, Logan. You’re still my sexy man whether you’ve got girl parts or not.”

    “I’m asexual too,” he muttered.

    “I heard. It’s why I put my shirt back on.” She tapped his nose with her finger. “I should’ve planned a game of checkers instead for your birthday.”

    Her voice wasn’t condescending or cruel, not even disappointed. His heart swelled and he let her curl into him. “I’d have sex if you really wanted to.”

    Jane paused. “Hmmm. Checkers on your birthday.” Then she was off of him, dancing into her pants. “Sex on my birthday. How’s that?”

He smiled low and pulled the Checker’s board out from under his bed. “Sounds wonderful.”

“Great. I’m red.” She plopped down in a chair. “And I go first.”

“Alright.”

They played four rounds of Checkers and he lost all of them then went out and watched a cheesy and poorly made romance movie before buying the world’s shittiest burgers from a vendor in the park.

It was the best birthday he’d ever had.

 ********  


 

 

 

**Twenty-two**

****

    A twenty-two year old college graduate with his own apartment and a Bachelor’s degree in Engineering and one in Business, Logan still finds it hard to talk to his parents about anything anymore. They barely know about Jane and only found out about her because she answered his phone while he was in the shower. They don’t know he started taking testosterone when he was nineteen, having faked his old voice on the phone with them with a high pitch tone that hurts his throat every time he uses it, and they don’t know that he’s scheduled for upper body surgery in two months.

    Naturally, it’s Noah and Jane that convince him that it’s fine to tell them. He has a job, he has a future and it’s their choice whether or not they want to be apart of it.

    Logan disagrees but lets them drag him back home for Christmas anyway.

****

\--

****

    “Hello, Mrs. Robinson!” Jane squealed, thrusting out her bag of Christmas gifts. “It’s so good to finally meet you!”

    Logan, personally, thought Jane was going overboard with the happiness but cleared his throat, ready to reintroduce himself to his own mother. The sentence sounded less weird when it was Noah saying it. “Uh-”

    “Call me Helen, dear.” She turned to Logan. “Here you go,” his mother said, slipping him a fifty. “Keep the change. It’s Christmas.” His mother poked her head out the doorway and yelled, “Rosie?”

    He paused for a moment, trying to remember if his mother ever mentioned getting a pet until he remembered that, oh yeah, that was his name. “Uh, Mom, I’m right here. And we already paid the driver.”

    His mother froze up and took a step back, adjusting her glasses as she looked Logan up and down. “Wha-”

    “Hi. So what do you think?” A brief flash of Noah’s hotel address filtered through his mind as he waited for his mother to stop staring at him like he was some kind of monster. “Mom?”

    “Wha- I don’t, I don’t understand, what, what happened?” His mother placed a hand over her heart and leaned back against a table.

    “I’m transgender, Mom,” Logan explained, eyes flickering over to Jane who was stooped over the Christmas tree, placing gifts under it. “I’m trans and I’m transitioning to be a male.”

    “Why?” She sounded so broken that Logan wished they’d just gone with his plan and faked his death.

    “Because I’ve always felt like a male, Mom. It’s just how I feel and I’m changing to fit how I feel.” Faking his death seemed like a lot less hassle. He really wished they’d gone through with it.

    Jane flocked to his side, probably sensing his internal panic. “Please don’t freak out about it, Mrs. Robinson. Logan’s been really nervous about telling you and I had to spend an hour explaining why we couldn’t fake his death.”

    Logan had every right to be nervous though. His mother had always fretted about his appearance, about him acting and being a girl, signing him up for etiquette classes, ballet, gymnastics,  making him wear dresses, telling him to cross his legs, refusing to let him play football with his uncles and cousins so he could have tea with his snooty aunts instead. His mother wanted him to be a girl.

    Oh, God, they should’ve faked his death.

    “Rosie?” His father stepped down from the staircase and stared at him.

    “Hey, Dad!” Logan couldn’t stop his voice from becoming a pitch less than shrieking. “How have you been?”

    “Rosie, what hap-”

    His mother cut her husband. “It’s Logan, now, Albert.” The disdain in her voice was painfully clear. “Right, honey?”

    “Yeah. Logan.” Logan found comfort in Jane’s tight grip. “I got it legally changed and everything.”

    “Oh?” Apparently he got his high-pitched voice in the face of panic from his father. Logan found comfort in that as well, noticing that his stubble resembles that of his father’s. A ping of glee shot up his chest.

    “Yeah. This is Jane, by the way. My girlfriend.”

    Jane took his father’s hand in a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Robinson.”

    “Nice to meet you too.” He dropped her hand quickly. “I’ll go help your mother with dinner, Rosie, I mean, Logan. Go… go and get settled upstairs.”

    It’s the most awkward dinner of his life and in the end, Jane came up with an excuse about Noah having a breakdown that required them both to leave as the night came to an end and a work emergency that let them fly back home without ever having to come back.

 ********  
  
  


**Thirty-one**

****

    By the time he’s thirty-one, Logan is the CFO of a major tourism company, sells paintings in art galleries when he has the time, has a wife, two cats, a dog and a house with the possibility of twins on the way. If they get picked, of course. Unfortunately, he has not worked out the issues with his parents  by age thirty-one, both parties sending gifts at Christmas and on birthdays but not actually having real conversations besides calling one another to thank them for the gift.

    Jane is slightly annoyed because she doesn’t want her children to wonder why their other grandparents don’t know about them. Noah’s just fed up with the whole thing.

    So they invite Logan’s parents over for a weekend and forget to tell him until his parents physically show up.

****

\---

****

    “Mom!” Logan stared at his mother in slight horror. “What are you doing here?”

    “I was invited by your girlfriend,” his mother replied, tone curt but in an effort to be polite.

    “Wife, actually,” Jane said, wrapping her arms around Logan’s waist. “Did I forget to tell you that I invited your parents over to share the news?”

    “Yes, you did, Janie,” he hissed.

    She smiled in spite of his glares. “Sorry. Surprise!”

    “You’re married?” His mother was miffed, clearly, insulted from not being invited and annoyed because she was never told.

    “We eloped,” Logan lied. “Hey, Dad.”

    “Hi, Rosie.” His father didn’t bother to correct himself. He handed Logan a couple of suitcases. “Where are we sleeping?”

    “Uh-”

    “I’ll take you, Mr. Robinson,” Jane chirped, taking a suitcase from Logan and kissing his cheek. “You go talk with your mom, sweetie. Introduce her to my parents.”

    “Yes, Rosie, ” his mother breathed. “I’d love to meet your wife’s parents.”

    He tried not to focus on her sarcastic emphasis and guided her to the kitchen where Jane’s parents were cooking lunch with Noah. “Hey guys! This is my mom, Helen. Mom, this Mary and Joanna Brighton, Jane’s parents.”

    Mary grinned brightly and held her hand out. “Nice to finally meet you, Helen.”

    His mother grimaced but took Mary’s hand and shook it. “You two, as well.”

    Joanna swooped down to capture his mother in a sudden hug and the situation turned from tolerable to dangerous. “Oh, I’m so pleased to meet you finally! I was so disappointed that you were ill at the time of the wedding.”

    Logan winced.

    “Wedding?” His mother smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, yes. So terribly ill. It was a shame for me and my husband as well.”

    Noah waved. “Hey, Mrs. R.”

    “Oh, Noah!” And just like that she was suddenly happy. Noah was normal. “I didn’t even notice you were there! I feel like I haven’t see you in forever.” She swept him into a tight hug..

    Mary and Joanna politely ignored the sudden change of tone and took the chicken sandwiches into the dining room.

    “Missed you too, Mrs. R.” He swallowed and pulled back a bit, uncomfortable with the touching. “I kinda gotta go to the bathroom.”

    “Oh!” She let him go and watched him leave before turning back to her son.

    “Mom-”

    _“They're lesbians?”_ she all but snarled into a whisper. _“You're married?”_

    “Mom-”

    “Why didn’t you tell us?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you invite us?”

    “Because Dad would’ve hid in a corner and drank a lot like he did when his boss brought his husband over and you would’ve come only to talk me out of it by saying that it was wrong for females to marry females!” Logan inhaled deeply. “Mom, I’m not a girl. I’m a male. I’ve always been a male.”

    “You are a girl and you changed yourself because you were pulled in by the Devil’s hands!” she snapped.

    “Mom!” Logan felt the intense desire to make her leave. “I’m trying to get you to understand. I’m not a woman. I’ve never been a woman. I’m straight and I’m married to most wonderful girl on the planet who loves me and everything I am. I was stuck for eighteen years, pretending to be what you wanted me to be. I can’t do that anymore!

    “It’s not your fault but it’s not my fault either. This is just who I am and  you can accept it and stay or you can go.” He rubbed his arm. “It will hurt if you can’t accept me as I am, as I’ve always been. You’re still my family and I love you but I can’t pretend to be someone you want me to be.”

    He sighed. “The big news is that Jane and I adopted twins and tomorrow we’re going to go get them and Jane wanted you and Dad to be there to experience it with us but if you can’t do that then, fine, you don’t have to.” He looked at his mother. “That’s it, Mom. Take me as I am or go and don’t come back. I really don’t care anymore. I can’t handle the stress.”

    He turned around, ready to go, ready for the rejection. It would hurt, probably worse than he had ever thought it would. Most of the time it did.

    “I always did want grandchildren,” his mother remarked wistfully.

And, of course, there was always the option that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

****

**Author's Note:**

> Currently this hasn't been beta'd but a friend of mine is reading it over so when it's been checked and is mistake-free, I'll update it.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. I am not transgender, simply genderfluid so some of this was speculation.


End file.
